The Watchers

So who narced me out? Which one of you assholes did it?

Upwards of three hours tonight on my website. Phone out of Vegas, but it’s a relay that is pinging through Tucson via Verizon. That is going to be the government of the State of Nevada. I have no idea which agency, but it is an investigation of some sort.

I sat here watching for three hours, reading all the recent blog posts. The Todd recognition posts. So, Todd, you narced me out? To who? Am I dealing with counterterrorism again?

I’m not safe to leave my house now. Fuck. Fuck.

See, this is exactly what I get. I give some impassioned plea to help me, and what happens? I get investigated, as fucking usual.

God forbid someone actually fucking help. That would have been insane.

I don’t see the crazy in my logic. I don’t. I guess that’s supposed to be the hallmark of insanity. Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy, right?

I have always tried to keep that in check—literally logic through things with the assumption I’m crazy and look for it.

I don’t understand the cover-up. I don’t understand letting a rapist go free. I don’t understand why he actually harms people, but I am the threat because I use words and I won’t shut up. I’m dangerous. Not him.

I can’t believe someone sat here for three hours and read and didn’t, at a bare minimum, reach out to me and offer me some sort of mental health support immediately.

Dude, it’s actually fucking funny. I am so fucking dangerous because I am so fucking crazy because I won’t shut up about being raped by a fucking state official on video and watching the state cover it up. I’m the crazy person here.

Just the logic in this is fucking funny.

The fucking thing is actually—

The best part is the way I have convinced myself that the system works. The system doesn’t fail people like this.

Law enforcement is mandated to protect the people. They aren’t protecting me. They never have. I don’t know who actually gets to have that protection from the police and whatnot. I mean, rich white people, clearly. The ones who can afford a fucking lawyer. Not me.

Jesus Christ, this is what I get. Okay, so for the last time, in case anyone was still wondering why the hell I didn’t just go to the police—gestures hands wildly.

Okay, so what am I going to boil for? I don’t know. I don’t know what they have. I haven’t done anything.

{D}’s is getting on the website at midnight every night now. I guess they had a come-to-Jesus about that, and now they’re making it a point to make sure she does it every day so they can discredit any indicators I had on that. I mean, that is precisely what you are doing—and she just clicked. It is 8:59 PST. I truly love that she is covering his ass for her coming to me after he raped her at night. Like, this shit is sick.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it.

The cover-up wins.

The destruction of a rape victim who just wanted justice. Who just wanted accountability. Who just fucking wanted, for once, for someone to be held accountable legally for hurting her. I just wanted what everyone else gets. That’s all.

And they destroyed me. And I sit here and I swim in this fishbowl and you watch me. And I am getting worse. I am using the specific words “help me.” And they are investigating me. They aren’t fucking trying to help me. They aren’t trying to intervene. They’re just waiting for me to slip up so they can take me down. Make sure I’m silenced. It will be easier for them if I’m dead, I’m sure. So why the fuck would they bother helping me?

I’m kind of just numb right now. Just kind of realizing it was all for naught. The book doesn’t fucking matter. It’s a good fucking book, though. It wouldn’t change anything.

So, as usual, the old joke stands. I know everything, but {D}’s always right. He said it best when I asked him if he did this to me—he said, “What does it matter? You had one foot out the door on life anyways.”

It feels like the final days. I don't know why. Just this all coming to a close and I don't believe it's going to be the happily ever after story of enduring the horrific and coming out the other side. I had kind of hoped for that. I had hoped the fight was worth it. It was going to just do something. Make the world better. Bring me peace. Maybe garner some support for me. But that is not what is happening. I can feel it coming. Something is about to happen and it's probably going to happen to me. And it's not good. Just guys if nothing else I tried. I tried harder than most. I fought to the bitter fucking end.